


Just a Glimpse

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Boston Legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-15
Updated: 2006-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan reflects on his feelings towards people from his past and present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Augustus for the beta
> 
> Written for butterfly

 

 

Looking out into the Boston night sky, over the mass of buildings in the area, I often use the time before Denny arrives to reflect on the day, the past, and sometimes what I want for the future. Lately I've been focusing too much on my wife, and our past together. It becomes difficult to dwell on such times knowing that I can't have any of it any more. Maybe that's why I've become such a cynical bastard. No one is likely to change that anytime soon, though.

When Denny joins me, my thoughts wane.

"So I heard you handled the trial and your client really well today. You're almost getting to be as good as me, even managing to get a convicted criminal off."

"Now, Denny, you know as well as I do that we're not supposed to have sex with clients," I say, skewing his words.

"Doesn't stop me. She was a real looker, that Mrs Drake. I couldn't help peering into your office when she was in there after the trial."

"She also murdered her husband. If I've learned anything over the years, Denny, it's that you don't have sex with women capable of killing a man. I've done that once; I'm not going to do it again."

A long pause. Maybe Denny didn't realize I'd bring her up again. Well, I still see her every now and then; I just don't sleep with her any more. Or maybe Denny is just thinking about all the times he's slept with women capable of murder. God only knows how many of those he's had.

"Maybe your next client will be better, then," he finally says.

Or maybe I'll just stick to trying to get what I want around the office, I think, but I don't share that with Denny. I don't really know if he'd approve of my sights being set on Shirley. I'm not sure what it is about her that I find so appealing despite her former sexual encounters with Denny. Why would I want to sleep with someone my best friend had been with first? I think it has something to do with her strength and confidence. Or maybe it's just because she's about the only woman I can't have.

I suck on my cigar, inhaling deeply while my mind settles on the nude photos of Shirley I will never lay my eyes on again. That is until Denny interrupts my thoughts.

"You know what you need?"

"What?" I ask, not really thinking.

"A good drink. Let me get us something."

Denny heads back into his office while I settle down into a chair on the balcony. He comes back out with an unopened bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses. He doesn't say anything until he finishes pouring us each a shot.

"Now this is the life," he says, taking a swig from his glass.

It reminds me how simple a man Denny really is. He lives his life the way he wants to, without much of a care for the rest of the world and still manages to achieve so much. Maybe that's why I want Shirley despite her past with Denny. I'm still not sure what he'd really think if I actually got to be with her, though. Would he think I was just trying to replace him, or follow in his footsteps?

There have been other moments, of course, when I've thought about venturing further in my relationship with Denny, too. But I know he'd never hear a word of it - he's a Republican. It was hard enough trying to get him into bed with me when I had my night terrors. Even if he were willing, I don't know if it's something I would actually be able to go through with. There were a couple of experiences with other guys in college before I met my wife that were fun and exciting, but actually taking things a step further with a friend you're rather emotionally attached to is another thing entirely. Denny is probably the only man I would consider calling a true friend. I would never want to risk changing that.

Okay, so maybe I focus my attention on Shirley because even though I can't have her, at least she's more plausible than Denny, and making a move on her would, worst-case scenario, get me fired and arrested for sexual harassment.

I settle more deeply into the chair, take a swig of scotch and close my eyes as I listen to Denny speak about all the stupid things he did with one of his clients.

Denny is later interrupted by a woman's voice. I look at my watch - it's after eleven already. But it doesn't take knowing the time for me to recognize Shirley's voice.

"You boys really need to spend more time out of the office," she says.

"Look who's talking," Denny replies with a smile.

"Come on, I'll shout you both a drink."

As if we were both willing man-servants, Denny and I both place our half-drunk scotch glasses on the table between us and follow Shirley indoors.

Shirley takes us to a fine corner bar a few blocks away from the office and we settle ourselves into a booth. I don't think too much about the whys of Shirley bringing us here - it's not the first time, though that's not to say it's a frequent occurrence. Instead I simply take comfort in the thought that she actually wants to spend time with us. I don't think she has any interest in pursuing Denny again, so it must be us - or me - rather than Denny alone that brings the three of us together like this.

After a few rounds of drinks, Denny decides to call it a night. This is unusual for Denny, especially on a Friday night, but neither Shirley nor myself questions him. He tells us of his plans to catch a cab home, but neither of us rises for his departure. Instead I remain content with a whiskey in front of me, and Shirley a glass of white wine. This doesn't seem to bother Denny.

I'm a little surprised that Shirley wasn't the first to leave, especially given that it's now past one. The glasses of wine she has had tonight cause her to relax a little more comfortably, and she stretches her legs out across the cushioned booth. She's taken her shoes off, most likely leaving them on the floor beneath her. I take the opportunity to hold her stocking-covered feet in my lap, gently massaging the soles with each of my hands.

"I hope you realize this isn't going to get you into my bedroom," she tells me, slightly moaning at the sensations I'm providing her.

"Not at all, Shirley. I haven't been fantasizing about those photos of you," I tell her, hoping for a smile. I achieve the desired effect, but then I almost always get my way.

Shirley downs the last of her wine and then grabs for her purse. I expect her to buy another round, but instead she tells me it's about time she called it a night, too. I let go of her feet, a little disappointed at what little time there had been since Denny's departure for any opportunity to arise.

"Let me finish my whiskey and I'll follow you out," I say.

"Isn't that sweet. Don't worry, Alan, this old woman doesn't need a hand to the door."

She stumbles a little as she slides out of the booth. I quickly get rid of my whiskey and jump out of the booth in good time.

"Don't be silly," I say. "You know I'm always available to help a woman in need."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she quips back. I suppose I deserve that.

I follow Shirley out the front door and she hails a taxi. As she's getting in, more disappointment seeps through my skin. I'll probably forget all about the lost opportunity tomorrow. But I realize if I'm ever to bed Shirley, it'll really be her choice, not any effort on my part.

End.

 


End file.
